


Wish You Were Here

by StrawberrySwirl



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Community: snkkink, Implied Relationships, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-09-16
Packaged: 2017-12-26 18:06:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StrawberrySwirl/pseuds/StrawberrySwirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fill for prompt:<br/>"Let's imagine Jean and Marco were in a relationship. Then Trost happened. And then Jean found Marco again. Some time later, Jean gets some time alone and finds himself wishing Marco was there to share... but his own hand will have to do." Written for SNKkinkmeme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish You Were Here

**Author's Note:**

> Link to prompt:  
> http://snkkink.dreamwidth.org/2848.html?thread=3457824#cmt3457824

It wasn’t long after everyone went to bed that Jean opened his eyes and sat up on his bed. The eerie silence was making him uncomfortable and to be completely honest, it was scaring him too. The night wasn’t hot so everyone was sleeping comfortably despite the lack of sound.

How could they? A titan could come at any time during the night and attack the castle where they were residing.

Without wanting to spend another minute confined in the room, Jean stood up and walked out the door to the hallway. He wanted some fresh air, he wanted to breath because his chest felt like it was being pressed down on. Anytime he thinks of titans, Marco comes to mind. His half eaten body appears in his memories and that’s when his chest feels that way.

Sometimes he wishes he could erase memories, but then how would he grow as a person? His conflicting feelings always took a toll on him, and Jean wanted nothing more than to kiss Marco and touch his freckled skin. They might be teenagers, but they shared a much deeper bond than just friendship. Some might say it was just a game of hormones, but to them it was comfort.

To Jean, Marco was a home. Something he could come to anytime something bad was happening, and now that things were beyond fucked up, there was no home for him… once more. The worst is that he would never know what was he to Marco.

Sighing, Jean leaned back on the stone wall and slid down to sit on the dancing grass. The wind was picking up, but for some reason his friend wasn’t leaving his mind. Memories of late nights filled with tentative kisses and caresses were starting to heat his face. They were always careful so the others didn’t hear.

He remembers wanting to do so much more to him, to grab his waist and rub their aching together. They never got to do anything past touching each other with their hands, and once with their mouths.

God, that had been the best thing he’s ever experienced in his whole, short life. Without realizing it, his hand moved up to rest on his lower stomach. The heat coming off onto his covered skin made his cock twitch in anticipation. He was getting hard just from thinking back on what he and Marco used to do.

Pulling down on his cotton pants, Jean slid his hand down and grabbed his erection gently but with a firm grip. He closed his eyes and pictured the freckled face he loved to see every morning, the one he now yearns to see every morning.

His breathing started to get agitated as his hand rubbed himself, pulling back on the skin and pressing on the underside of his cock. The raven haired boy loved to touch him, always wanting to know how to make him roll his eyes in pleasure, pleasure they didn’t think was so significant then. Jean tried to mimic Marco’s way of getting him off, but for some reason his memories of a half eaten body kept coming back.

The blond opened his eyes trying to find a way to keep those images out of his mind. His hands never stopped moving, and a moan wanted to escape from his mouth, but he didn’t want anyone to hear him. This was a private moment, one he used to enjoy with Marco. Yes, he’ll think of the times he and Marco did this, maybe try to picture him here with his hand working on him.

He closed his eyes once more, remembering how warm the taller boy’s hand was, how delicious it felt to have someone else touch you this intimately. He could almost hear the soft breathing noises Marco would always do. The smell of his sweat and his hair, oh his hair.

His hand started to move faster, his fingers applying more pressure to his reddened erection as his mind kept making Marco as real as it could. He wished Marco could see him now. In the Scouting Legion, he would have been so proud. He would have kissed him as congratulations, he would have pushed him to an empty room and pull his pants down. Marco would have gotten on his knees and sucked on his cock so deliciously hard, making him moan in pleasure.

How Jean wishes he were here with him, enjoying this moment, to see his smile once more, or taste the saltiness of his skin. His hand kept moving until he started to feel the pressure inside, then he swallowed anxiously. He could almost smell him, maybe just maybe if he opened his eyes the raven haired boy would be there. He didn’t though, he didn’t open his eyes. He didn’t want to ruin this moment for himself.

The feeling of his fingers started to become someone else's, his brain was working hard. How desperately he wanted to come for Marco, but the other boy wasn’t alive anymore. And this is not what he wanted to think when his orgasm hits, but his brain really wanted to make him suffer after all.

The shudders that ran through his body felt so amazing yet left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wanted to scream out his orgasm, to yell at the wind. But all he did was open his eyes and not see Marco there. Just a lonesome garden surrounded by walls of rocks to protect the castle from titans.

He wanted to yell and ask why Marco, why anyone. Yet, all he did was tuck himself inside his cotton pants and catch his breath. He felt the prickle in his eyes, he wondered whether tears would actually fall out this time. They didn’t, they never do.

“I wish you were here.” The whisper left his lips as he closed his eyes once more, hoping to see Marco smiling behind his eyelids.


End file.
